


Transference

by Aadizookewinini



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pregnant Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 01, dean is a good big brother, fetus transfer spell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:56:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20037529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aadizookewinini/pseuds/Aadizookewinini
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester haven't spoken for nearly two years since that fateful night when Sam left for Stanford. In the early hours of the morning, Dean gets a call from his younger brother that he and his girlfriend Jessica have been in a bad car accident, who has been left braindead from her injuries, asking Dean to come to California. It isn't until he arrives at the hospital that Dean realizes the full impact of this family tragedy when it becomes known that Jessica is pregnant with her and Sam's child. Difficult decisions need to be made on what to do to save the future of the Winchester family and what the potential fallout will be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty early on into this story it will turn into an Mpreg, hence the tags, but it's going to take a few chapters to get to that point. This will be also my first attempt at that particular sub-genre and also a Supernatural piece despite being a fan of the show for years so we'll see how we go. I already have the first few chapters roughly hand written for a while now when this original idea came and needing to be typed out and fleshed out more but not sure how quick the updates will be or where exactly the plot will go/how long this will end up being once I get past the pre-prepared material. This is more just to help keep me writing, and get a bit of routine/discipline to my writing again, and because the I find the whole mpreg concept to be fascinating for some reason (not into alpha/omega etc stuff personally though) but for me to really feel like it 'works' it has to have some basis of plausibility in context of the world/lore that the story is taking place in. Given that this is Supernatural, that would mean that an plausible mpreg would have to be somehow angel/demon or magically related. 
> 
> Definitely leave me some feedback and let me know what you think.

_‘Dean.’_

The voice was so strangled with emotion that Dean couldn’t immediately place it in his sleep-drunk state when the notes of his cellphone ringtone roused the hunter from deep sleep. He strained for a moment to foggily ID the caller – he knew it was a man from the deepness of the pitch - as he squinted at the digital clock on the hotel room nightstand. It read 4.25am and eldest Winchester vaguely acknowledged he was going to be _pissed_ if this was just a social call and not something legitimately important. 

_‘Who is this?!'_ He slurred thickly, irritation bleeding into his tone. 

_‘Dean,’_ The caller repeated, _‘it’s me.’_

It was only then, given a larger sample of the person’s timbre and incantation, that the penny dropped and Dean knew who it was. 

‘Sam.’ 

That jolted the Winchester into alertness as indignation burned away any residual grogginess. 

‘Sam, what the hell?!’ The tone of his voice bounced off the bare water-stained walls of the room as he heard the breathing on the other end of the line hitch. ‘We don’t speak for nearly two years and suddenly you call me in the middle of the fucking night? _Seriously?!_’ 

Dean listened as his brother collected himself before speaking. 

_‘Where are you right now?’_ The emotion was even thicker in his voice now. _‘I need you to come to California.'_

He shot upright in the bed at the request.

‘Why the hell would I do that?’ 

_‘It’s my girlfriend Jessica. We were in a car accident.’_

The inherent instincts of an older brother peaked as Dean listened with mounting concern. Goosebumps broke across his naked chest and arms that had nothing to do with the autumn chill of the air or the heater doing next to nothing other than emit pained mechanic groans every so often. 

‘Well, are you guys okay?’

_‘I’m fine, little banged up but fine.’_ Just by how heavy the silence was, how Sam was screwing himself up to say what happened, Dean knew it was bad. _‘But Jess - ’_ Sam’s breathing hitched again. _‘But Jess isn’t – she was hurt real bad – she’s braindead.’_

It was then that Sam obviously couldn’t hold back the dam any longer and broke down. The ragged, hiccupping sobs carrying over the line all about broke Dean’s heart and whatever back may have been left of his resistance. He knew Sam and he knew his brother was a tough son of a bitch who didn’t break down like this unless it was bad – really bad. That in itself was proof enough to whether his brother was being honest or exaggerating the situation. 

‘Okay,’ He said, his own throat tightening with emotion at listening to his brother crying and not being able to do anything about it. ‘I’ll come.’ 

As soon as Dean had cleaned up and gotten dressed, he was on the road after packing what few possessions travelled with him – mainly clothes and weapons – and filling a thermos with C grade gas station coffee. As he was in Iowa, it was going to be at least a twenty four-hour run to California; and as it was about 5am by the time he hit the open highway, it wouldn’t be until at least early morning the next day before he was anywhere near Sam’s vicinity. The time and the open road would give him time to think though, Dean conceded as the headlights from the opposite lane periodically illuminated with cab of the Impala in a way he’d always found comforting and lent itself to late night/early morning contemplation. Such as how the Winchester brotherhood had broken down to the point of going nearly two years without contact when they’d been such a tight unit for the majority of their lives. That it had taken tragedy to bring them back together when enough pain and suffering had already set the trajectory of their lives decades before. 

Yeah, he had a lot to think about before he saw Sam again…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the intro chapter was so short, here's the second chapter to make up for that and help get things moving along a bit and build up some excitement.

Dean couldn’t supress a low whistle when he finally saw Sam. 

It had been nearly sunrise – true to his estimate – by the time he’d arrived in Stanford and the appropriate hospital that his brother had directed him to when Dean had been closer to town. If he was tired from the early morning and the drive, then Sam looked wrecked. Exhaustion was plain in every plain and line of his younger brother’s face where he was collapsed, head in arms, on the edge of the bed on top of the linens. He looked far older then a guy in his early twenties in the prime of his life. Apparently he was so far gone that he hadn’t even noticed when Dean walked into the room, still hovering by the doorway, getting an initial read of the state of things, hunter instincts prickling at the lack of vigilance when he and his girlfriend – _Jessica_, Dean recalled – were already vulnerable. What their father would have said if it’d been him instead of Dean. But as much as his ingrained hunter instincts disapproved, his deeper-rooted instincts of the big brother, the protector, flailed even stronger. Sympathy and worry smothered out anything else in the way it had since he was four years old and carrying the infant that had grown into this gangly, brilliant moose of a kid out of their burning home. 

‘Sam,’ Dean said gently as he shook the other man’s shoulder when he finally approached the bed. 

‘Dean,’ The younger man’s voice was rough when he spoke after being roused back to consciousness, eyes red rimmed from exhaustion and crying. ‘You’re here.’ 

‘I’m here.’ 

Wordlessly, Sam got to his feet and the brothers embraced. 

‘I’m sorry,’ The younger Winchester was shaking in Dean’s arm as a fresh bout of tears spilled over. ‘I’m so sorry for everything.’ 

Dean knew that Sam wasn’t just apologizing for dragging him off his hunt all the way to Cali. He was apologizing for his contribution to their estrangement, for not calling sooner, for needing to get out. Sam had always been the more openly sensitive of the two but he must have been feeling particularly vulnerable to bring up the past like that. Obviously, Dean hadn’t been the only Winchester who had done some soul searching recently. 

‘It’s okay,’ Dean soothed as he clapped his tearful brother on the back in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture before pulling away. ‘I get it. I was pissed and hurt as hell initially but I get it – you had to go your own way.’ 

There was a brief but not hostile silence as they both sat down and Sam composed himself. It seemed that his tears and show of emotion had been something of an icebreaker and both a literal and figurative cleansing. It was plain to see now what he’d meant when he said he was banged up in the accident. The side of his face was bruised with the most angry of the colouring on his cheekbone, tracing up along the orbital bone, like he’d smacked his head against a window or the dash. A split in his lip and another through the edge of his eyebrow also on the same side as the rest of the damage completed the wince worthy portrait. If Dean hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought that Sam had been in a fight and copped a couple of good hits to the face. And that was just what he could immediately see; there was no way to know how many injuries Sam was carrying under his clothes. A concussion and whiplash were almost certainly a given too. 

‘So, how is she?’ Dean’s attention shifted to the blond woman in the bed beside them. ‘Any news since we last spoke?’ 

Sam shook his head dismally. 

‘No improvements, and they don’t expect her to.’ He gestured to all the tubes and wires and medical apparatus around the bed and the head of the woman like some bionic halo. ‘She’s on life support.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Dean stated simply as he openly met the other man’s eye, all jokes and snark and posturing aside. ‘Really, I am. You both deserved to be happy.’

‘And that’s not even the worst of it.’ Younger hunter’s voice broke again as he gazed at the woman with devastation radiating from his aura. ‘She’s pregnant.’ 

Dean felt the bottom of his heart and stomach seemingly fall away at that axis shifting statement. That this poor, doomed girl who obviously meant a hell of a lot to his brother was carrying his niece or nephew. If that wasn’t fucking _devastating_ he didn’t know what was. He didn’t even know where to begin to start processing his warring feelings. Shocked to his core. Angry that he hadn’t been told. Despondent that the Winchester curse had apparently claimed another innocent victim.

‘Jesus…fuck…’ He sputtered, floundering for a response when his own head and feelings were swimming. ‘Oh Sammy, I’m so sorry.’ 

‘She wasn’t far along – only ten weeks.’ Sam scrubbed at eyes that were shining with unshed tears. ‘We’d only just found out like two weeks ago.’ 

‘What are your options?’ 

‘So far the baby is still alive and okay, but the options aren’t good, Dean. We either keep her on life support and hope the baby makes it to term or close to term as possible and her body doesn’t reject it – and you and me both know we can’t afford that – or we unplug her…and let them both go.’ 

A tear streaked down his unblemished cheek as he turned to look at Dean. 

‘That’s partly why I called you actually.’ He confessed as he wiped a shaking hand down his face. ‘I swore I gave up hunting for good. But you, me, and Dad – we know things these doctors don’t.’

For a long moment Dean was silent as he racked his memory for any recollection of a spell or a rootworker in their web of contacts that may be able to help them in this shitty hand that their family had been dealt. He could immediately summon several sources for aborting an unwanted or unnatural pregnancy that he knew were effective. But _retaining_ a pregnancy? That was a whole other matter altogether. One that even he was humble enough to admit was well and truly out of his wheel house and he’d never heard of their father having dealt with a situation quite like this either.

‘I got nothing off the top of head and Dad never mentioned anything like that – any ideas?’

‘Yeah, actually,’ Sam replied to Dean’s genuine surprise as that was not what he was expecting in contrast to how distraught his brother looked and sounded. ‘I was doing some digging while I waited for news and you to get here and I may have found something. Or something that could be a valid option anyway.’ 

Dean winced internally as he knew they’d done a lot of sketchy shit in their time in the name of getting the job done. Fake IDs. Hot cards. Breaking and entering. But nothing involving an unborn child. That fact alone was enough to rachet his anxiety levels. And terrifying legal ramifications aside, there was the fact that this was their family, their _blood_; if they made the wrong call or something went wrong that this was their son or daughter, niece or nephew, that they’d potentially lose.

‘What is it?’

‘It sounds crazy, even for us,’ Sam confessed with a watery scoff, ‘but I found lore on fetus transfer spells.’ 

_‘Fetus transfer spells?!’_ All the gears felt like they were trying to grind _sideways_ in Dean’s head at that declaration. ‘Are you fucking serious?!’ 

‘Yeah, Dean, I am,’ Sam deadpanned back, deadly serious in a way that Dean knew he’d already been thinking on this for awhile before he’d even gotten here. ‘There’s actually a surprising amount of lore in various cultures of witches and shamans and practitioners saving an unborn child when a tragedy happened.’ 

‘Who would even carry it, Sam?’ Dean shot back in a fierce whisper, _definitely_ not wanting to attract the attention of staff in the middle of this. ‘We don’t know any women we’d trust enough to even consider it, and even if we did, we couldn’t guarantee we could keep her safe!’ 

‘I’d do it,’ Sam declared. ‘You’re right, we don’t know anyone else and we couldn’t ask that of her even if we did. That only really leaves us, and you eat and drink like shit, Dad’s too old and never around, so that leaves me.’ His chin jut forward in that way it did when he was gearing up to square off with their father ever since he was a kid. ‘And besides, it’s my kid anyway.’ 

‘How would that even work anyway?!’ Dean fired back, incredulous they were even discussing this like it was an option. ‘I thought testosterone was toxic to a fetus and you don’t have the right anatomy like…_at all!_’

‘Yeah, generally speaking it is, but it’s a risk we have to be prepared to take if we’re even gonna consider trying this when I already told you our medical options are shit and shittier.’ Sam shrugged. ‘As for anatomy, we can tweak the spell.’ 

Dean paced the length of the room as he mulled over this option. In theory, it was smart, and it honestly probably did sound like their best magical option but ‘in theory’ and ‘in reality’ where very different things. There were _so_ many different ways this could go wrong. 

‘What about Jessica’s family?’ Dean demanded as he rounded back on his brother. ‘Do they know about the baby? Do they even know about the accident?’

‘They know about the accident; they’re on their way from interstate. But they don’t know about the baby. We hadn’t told them yet – Jess wanted to tell them on the next semester break when she went home and I know they aren’t cashed up enough to even consider risking waiting it out for the medical option, so not looking good there either.’ Sam looked at him with pleading eyes. ‘This is the way, Dean. No one will know to try and stop us and it’s the best chance we can give that kid.’ 

The open vulnerability was breaking Dean’s heart enough to consider it. And if he was honest, he did want to save this kid if they could; after the initial shock had worn off, the idea of being an uncle was thrilling to him, something he’d secretly fascinated about over the years. 

‘Fucking hell,’ He cursed as he collapsed back into his seat scrubbing his face after this information overload. ‘Tell me about the spell, dammit.’ 

‘There’s different variations but the core elements seemed to be consistent – blood of the original carrier and blood of the new intended carrier and hair and personal affects from both of us – which we have easy access to all of that. And I found a couple Latin versions of the spells that we definitely know we can tweak. We could do it, we have to try.’ 

‘Alright, alright,’ Dean felt his inner resolve crumble in the face of Sam’s desperation and the financial and medical risk the longer they held off on a decision. Knowing his brother would damn well go and ahead and do it by himself anyway once he'd made up his mind; at least this way he could be there to try and supervise and minimize any greater potential fallout. ‘We’ll do it – I’ll help you.’ 

Dad was going to _kill_ them when he found out what they had planned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a pretty tough uncomfortable night prepping for a medical procedure tomorrow, and Monday will pretty much be a write-off for me because of said procedure, so I thought posting a new chapter would be a good distraction and cheer me up a bit.
> 
> Do let me know what you think about the chapter though as this is an important one for the plot!

Once the boys had discreetly gathered a few vials of Jessica’s blood and a couple locks of hair, they beat a hasty retreat back to Sam’s dorm room on campus. The brothers figured it was best not to wait once the decision had been made to go ahead with the spell as they were on the clock not only with Jessica’s body physically but also with her family and the inevitable turning off of life support at any time in the next day or two depending on their mode of travel. It went without saying that time was of the essence in that heavy unspoken way that only death could. Dean had barely gotten the door shut and bolted to avoid unwanted interruptions before Sam was cutting a line into the soft meaty underside of a forearm and letting the blood run off his elbow into a bowl with a knife he had obviously still had ferreted away somewhere from his hunting days. 

It was like the commitment to some sort of action had revived the younger hunter. The blight of tragedy could never be erased but this hopeful last ditch breathed fresh oxygen on the flagging pilot flame of his spirit. Lessened some of the defeated hunch of his shoulders. There was a grim determination to Sam’s features that wasn’t there when the older Winchester had first arrived at the hospital as he watched his blood drip into the ceramic dish. 

‘Alright,’ It equally heartened and scared Dean to see the contrast in how his brother had rallied from the wan crying man in the hospital to the stony faced man that harkened back to the blood-and-bullets hunter he remembered, so he stuck to business as he watched Sam bandage his arm. ‘So how does this work?’

‘We need two circles drawn with blood,’ Sam explained he as selected a card out of the wallet that had to be Jessica’s based on the on the larger elongated shape of the item. ‘One for her and one for me: each person’s circle will be drawn in that vessel's blood with a line connecting the two in the direction we want the transfer to happen.’ He brandished the card as he set the wallet aside. ‘Since we can’t have Jess physically here, we’re gonna use hair for DNA and a photo and signature for representational magic.’ 

‘Great.’ Mounting concern twisted in Dean’s gut as he shook his head in disbelief. ‘So we’re going full Hoodoo too while we’re at it.’ 

‘Yeah for today anyway.’ There was no patience for big-brother snark in Sam’s tone as he retorted shortly. He tossed a slightly weathered craft paintbrush from a desk drawer at Dean before gesturing to the vials of Jess’ blood. ‘Start painting.’

As Dean started painting a thick line of blood for the circle representing Jessica as the original carrier for the fetus once a big enough spot on the old hardwoods had been cleared and the vials emptied into another bowl, he heard his brother start reciting in Latin. He wasn’t listening to every word, not being nearly as fluent as Sam in what was essentially the Hunter’s unofficial second language, but he did catch the words for _child_ and _transfer_ and _vessel_. _Fuck Sam,_ Dean couldn’t help but muse as he worked with quick deft strokes born from many years of spellwork, rootwork, and sigil painting. _I hope you know what you’re doing…_

Once the circle had been completed, Jess’ hair and card with her signature and photo were set in the middle with what was left of her blood. Then the process was repeated with Sam’s blood. The Latin was different this time, but Dean caught _receive_ and _womb_ for sure where his brother had obviously ad libbed the part about anatomy and needing to accommodate for the physiological differences. However, this time when it came time for the receiver of the transfer to be represented, Sam stepped into the circle which had been painted large enough for him to sit down in after painting a few unfamiliar looking runes across his abdomen once he’d ditched the shirt and jacket he’d been wearing. The same runes had been painted onto the line connecting the circles in what Dean figured must be some sort of magical _‘this way’_ arrow and _‘X marks the spot’_ for the transfer.

Once Sam had finished reading the final passage of the spell, the runes on his abdomen started to glow an increasingly bright red while the identical ones on the floor also followed suit. The brighter they glowed, the more of a grimace spread across the hunter’s face until he was cringing with hands fisting the fabric of his jeans, forcing himself to stay sitting upright, when he was too paranoid, too unfamiliar with the spell to know what would happen if he disturbed the runes on himself at this stage of the process. Dean watched with mounting dismay at the growing pain his already battered brother was in, unsure if he should intervene, what might even happen if he tried, or to let it play out and run it’s course. As batshit as he thought this whole plan was, the last thing he wanted was to lose his brother or his unborn niece/nephew in some cruel double whammy when the Winchester family had already taken enough of a hit over the last 24 hours. 

With a final flare of the runes, so bright that neither man could keep their eyes open, the carnelian glow seering through scrunched eyelids, and a cry from Sam, everything seemed to stop. The glow faded and all that could be heard in the room was the brother’s panting breaths. 

‘Sam?’ Dean couldn’t suppress his brotherly instincts any longer as he rushed forward into the circle where Sam was slumped over across the weathered hardwood planks. ‘Sammy?!’

‘Dean,’ He was shaking under Dean’s hands, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, but beyond that appeared physically fine. ‘It’s okay. I’m okay.’ 

‘Did it work?’ 

‘Yeah, I think so,’ Sam was unsteady on his feet, swaying when Dean pulled him upright to get a better look. ‘I could feel my insides like…being pushed aside almost..and something _filling_ that space.’ He scoffed shakily as he scrapped his sweat dampened fringe out his eyes. ‘_Weirdest_ fucking feeling, not a good feeling either.’ 

And as if to satisfy Dean of the validity of this statement, Sam grabbed the other man’s calloused, scarred hand and pressed it against his abdomen. At first Dean couldn’t tell any difference as he hadn’t seen Sam in two years to know what state he’d been in pre-transfer, but after a moment, he clued into the fact that the warm flesh under his hand and the now smeared runes was oddly firm, not giving like soft tissue normally would, as he pressed back against it a little harder to test the give. It reminded him vaguely of a basketball or a soccerball that was partly air filled: there was that little catch, that bit of resistance at the end of the press. 

‘Well, we’ll just have to wait and see,’ Dean’s tone was tentative as he withdrew his hand and stepped back and Sam headed for the kitchenette. ‘But we may have just pulled it off.’ He smirked as Sam wet a dishcloth at the sink to clean up with. ‘You know one thing, right?’ 

The red paint was surely going to stain the yellow microfibre cloth as Sam wiped off what was left of the runes. 

‘What’s that?’ 

‘Dad is gonna flip shit when he finds out about this.’ 

‘Oh fuck yeah,’ The younger hunter cringed as he rinsed out the cloth after cleaning his stomach up as best as he could without a shower. ‘If he hated me before, he’s gonna really hate me now.’ 

Dean winced as he remembered the final interaction between his brother and their father. Any reunion was bound to be volatile after what they had just done. And a reunion was definitely on the cards: this was too big for the Winchester patriarch to not be informed. He just hoped that their father could see past the immediate action – the immediate apparat lunacy of the plan – and see the fact that they had seemingly just saved his first grandchild. 

‘Hey,’ Dean surfaced from his thoughts in time to see the dishcloth flying towards his head. On instinct he deftly v-stepped the damp projectile before snatching it out of the air. ‘Help me clean this mess up before any of our roommates get back.’


	4. Chapter 4

It was the sound of retching in the bathroom that woke Dean the next morning. 

They had both pretty quickly crashed after finishing the ritual and getting the blood and other items cleaned up and properly disposed of. Dean had stayed up long enough after brushing his teeth to salt the windows and doorway to Sam and Jessica’s room before calling it a night. And because of the space confinements of other roommates, Sam obviously being in an emotionally vulnerable place after the accident, and neither brother knowing what to expect after the spell – if there would be any potential side effects – they elected to share the double bed so Dean could keep an eye on Sam or at least be physically close at hand if something happened in the night. Thankfully, nothing had happened and both had found it comforting to have the other close by again after so long and incredibly reminiscent of the old days of their childhood sharing beds during their vagabond lifestyle. 

But given what had happened yesterday, the significance of any odd bodily reaction, Dean was immediately out of bed and down the hallway. 

‘Sam?’ He called out quietly, anxiety spiking sharply along with his pulse. ‘You okay?’

Knocking on the bathroom door before pushing it slowly open, he found Sam kneeling on tiles as clean as you could expect in a dorm room bathroom, slumped over the toilet, looking thoroughly miserable. 

‘I think it worked, Dean,’ He said in a hoarse tone by way of answer as he sat back against the wall after a final spit in the bowl. ‘If this isn’t morning sickness, I don’t know what the fuck it is.’ 

‘What happened?’ Dean probed as he wet an old soft facecloth from the vanity under the sink. ‘Did it just come on or did something set it off?’

‘One of our roommates was frying bacon – which I’m normally fine with, and you know that too – but today it just set me off.’ Sam scoffed wryly as he accepted the cool cloth and wiped the sweat beading on his forehead and neck before wiping his mouth and setting it aside. ‘Seems pretty suss after yesterday.’ 

‘Yeah, kinda,’ Dean agreed as he leaned back against the vanity, closely scrutinizing his younger brother with the critical eye of an elder sibling as he worried his lip. ‘Just keep an eye on it and see what happens I guess.’ 

‘You know what this means, right?’ A shaggy fringe was flicked out of heterochromic eyes that shifted between blue and green as Sam tipped his head back against the wall to meet his brother’s troubled contemplation. ‘We’re gonna have to find a way to get an ultrasound done so we can see what’s going on in here.’ He gestured towards his abdomen covered by an oversized sleepshirt riddled with holes. ‘See if it actually worked or not.’ 

‘Aside from the ralphing, how do you feel this morning?’ 

‘About the same, not worse anyway. Stomach still feels tighter and like everything’s been rearranged in there.’ 

‘Was Jessica getting morning sickness before the accident?’

Sam fidgeted with the beaded crystal bracelets on his wrist. As they twisted under the hunter’s fingers, Dean absently noted the pitted surface of black tourmaline, the deep red wine hue of garnet, the oily flash of Labradorite. Three of the most protective crystals that a hunter could wear to quickly and easily help energetically and psychically protect and ground themselves. Apparently not all of Sam’s hunter upbringing had been abandoned in his absence. _Good man._

‘Yeah, she was, which is another suss sign pointing to I think this worked.’ 

‘You think you can manage coffee?’

‘I hope so.’ Sam let Dean pull him up to his feet. ‘Or the next six months are gonna suck.’ 

‘You shower and get cleaned up.’ Dean was in full mother-hen mode. ‘I’m gonna put a pot on and we’ll head back to the hospital.’ 

Neither brother said it but it went without saying that today was going to be a hard day for everyone. Jessica’s family were surely in town by now and difficult decisions made regarding her fate. Dean had no idea how they were going to look her parents in the face after what him and Sam had done with the spell as he started a pot of coffee, not caring who’s grounds and filters he used, but he took solace in the fact that out of this whole shitty situation that they had seemingly managed to do one good thing out of it. And now that they had a moment to breathe, he knew he was also going to have to wrap his head around the reality of the situation that Sam – his kid brother he’d spent his whole life raising and protecting – was not only going to be a father but was also _pregnant_. That they were just at the beginning of this crazy ride if it had really worked and stayed good and nothing was going to be the same after what they’d done. 

As he watched the coffee drip down into the pot, Dean figured that the whole baby situation wasn’t as weird as it _could_ have been. It’s not like Sam had went from naught to nine months overnight: they’d have some time to get used to the changes as they happened. But even then, just based purely on anatomy and build alone, Sam was going to start showing earlier then Jessica ever would have as – even for a guy – he had small hips and was that freaking tall that any extra weight around the midriff showed right away. 

And because this whole scenario seemed to keep on giving like some fucked up set of Russian dolls, that in turn raised awkward questions as far as Sam and Stanford; he couldn’t see how Sam could stay on in college once this whole baby thing really got under way when it would become more and more apparent things weren’t ‘normal’ and people who’d known his brother pre-spell would start asking questions they didn’t want to answer. And from a hunter’s perspective it couldn’t be denied that Sam was now incredibly vulnerable. More so than he’d been by himself at college. Any nasty that went bump in the night or even just some drunk asshole could do him and the baby serious damage if they weren’t careful. Dean already knew and resigned himself to the fact the younger Winchester would need to be protected by himself at least, if not their father too, for the duration of this pregnancy – however it would play itself out. 

But before Dean could get any further buried in stressing about the future, he pulled himself up mentally. 

_Dean, focus!_ He chastised himself as he fixed two cups of coffee, one sweet and white (himself), the other sweet and black (Sam). A bittersweet smirk twisted pierced lips at the pun. _Baby steps. First, hospital. Then Jess. Get Sam through today. Everything else can take a number._

By the time Sam emerged freshly bathed and clothed and looking distinctly less green around the gills, he’d gotten his thoughts firmly wrangled into order and game face back on. 

‘You’re looking better,’ He noted, voicing his observations out loud as he pushed Sam’s mug across the counter. 

‘Yeah, feeling better,’ Sam agreed after a careful sip of the steaming liquid once he’d settled onto a bar stool on the other side of the peninsula counter. 

‘Guess we better stock up on Pepto and Tums than, if this is gonna be a regular occurrence.’ 

‘Fuck, I hope not,’ Sam cringed at the thought. ‘But I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re staring down the barrel of if this worked.’ 

‘How long is morning sickness usually supposed to last?’

‘From what Jess was telling me, every pregnancy is different.’ Sam shrugged between sips, the coffee apparently agreeing with him for now anyway. ‘Some get it for the whole nine months, some barely get any, some get nothing. Rule of thumb seems to be the first trimester though which we’re nearly through, thank God.’ 

‘You should still try to eat something,’ Dean urged as he cast his gaze around for a loaf of bread, something lighter that hopefully wouldn’t set his stomach off again. ‘You need to look after yourself if Vegas money says it’s not just you you’re looking out for anymore.’ 

Sam winced as he watched his brother press down a slice of bread into the toaster before he selected a banana from the bunch in the fruit basket beside the landline handset. He really didn’t feel up to eating but he knew Dean was right and that there was no way his brother would ease up on mother-henning him after the spell. If anything, that ingrained behaviour would almost certainly get that much worse as the pregnancy progressed if the spell had indeed worked; and in the face of so much of this tragedy being out of their control, Sam knew that Dean needed to be able to do _something_ that felt useful – even if it was just something small like making sure Sam was eating – when he couldn’t big brother away all the horrible shit that had happened and was still happening. 

But Sam knew in his bones he _needed_ Dean. He needed his brother if he was going to have a snowball’s chance of doing this and trying to raise a child as a single parent. There was no one he trusted more than Dean to have his back and be there for whatever might come. He didn’t know what the hell he would have done if the elder brother hadn’t answered the phone or had flat out refused to come. He’d known that his leaving for Stanford had hurt Dean the worst and part of Sam had been expecting the rejection. Expecting Dean to hang onto his grudge that had painted Sam’s exodus from the family, from _hunting_, as the ultimate betrayal. It had been partly from sheer overwhelming relief when his brother had agreed to come that Sam had burst into tears knowing he wouldn’t be alone in handling the shit show his life had descended into. 

And so, when the buttered toast and fruit was presented, he ate it without complaint knowing just as well as Dean that today was going to be a shitty bitch of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the heterochromia iridum detail into Sam's physical description because I swear that Jared Padalecki has that condition where his eye color is so hard to pin down in photos and close up footage from the show and look very similar to Benedict Cumberbatch who does have that condition. 
> 
> Also, deliberately included the detail about Sam wearing protection grounding crystals as I found it very odd - as a highly spiritual person myself who actively practices and is very into crystal lore/healing and shamanism etc - that the boys never worked with crystals in all of 14 seasons and you never once saw them smoke cleanse themselves or the Impala after hunts when healers/shamans etc do so on a regular basis as part of their spiritual maintenance/hygiene and to protect and ground themselves. As cool and good as especially the earlier seasons are and you can tell more effort was put into researching lore and stuff, it's details like that where you can tell the writers aren't active practitioners necessarily of some of the spirituality stuff the boys interact with on the regular (even if on a more fantastical level obviously for the characters at least).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay between chapters guys. Things have been hectic on this end with a lot of IRL stuff going on with having less than 30 days to find a new place to move after the people that bought the rental we live in changed their mind about keeping us on as tenants and parents potentially separating soon with all the associated stress with that and starting a new job. But I'm hanging there and here is the next chapter and I hope it makes up for the radio silence and time between updates. Some new information and revelations are also shared. 
> 
> Definitely leave me a review and let me know what you think!

The Moore family were already in Jessica’s room in the ICU unit when the brothers got back to the hospital. As they had never met Dean before, it was slightly awkward for him to be a witness to their tearful but heartfelt reunion with Sam in the hallway before he was introduced. To see how close he’d been to losing Sam to this other family if they hadn’t broken their estrangement when he saw the way Jessica’s mother had immediately pulled the much taller young man down into a hug. Saw that they genuinely _cared_ for him: not because he was a good shot or had the best Latin or had been the one in the nursery the night of the fire; they just cared for him as _Sam_ – a smart sensitive kid who wanted to be a lawyer, not a hunter – and help people with his words and mind instead of on the other side of a gun or a blade. That terrified Dean in a way few things had as he struggled to maintain his best poker face. He was feeling territorial in a way he hadn’t before as he followed them back into Jessica’s room, especially after the spell and knowing what was hiding under that oversized brown canvas jacket that his brother evidentially still loved. 

‘What happened in the crash, Sam?’ Jessica’s father asked hesitantly.

Dean couldn’t help but to bristle at the undercurrent of the question, subtly shifting to angle himself more-so between him and Sam in a way his brother didn’t miss. It was that of a man – a grieving father – looking for a scapegoat, someone to blame for what happened to his daughter.

‘It was just bad luck.’ Sam shook his head as he stared down at the shell of his partner. ‘We were coming back from the movies and this guy ran a red light as we were turning – completely cleaned up Jess’ side of the car.’ He glanced up at the other man as his voice came out sounding more and more constricted with emotion. ‘The doctor’s figured she must of hit her head when it happened. I’m sorry.’ He choked out the apology before he was crying in much the same manner that he had on the phone to Dean the day before. ‘I’m so sorry.’ 

‘It’s not your fault, son,’ The father said gently as Dean promptly steered the sobbing man towards one of the chairs. ‘It’s not your fault.’ 

‘Can we have a minuet?’ The man asked as he warily approached the weeping man hiding his face behind his hands. ‘If that’s okay with you?’

The last thing Dean wanted was to leave Sam alone in such a vulnerable state with a man he didn’t trust not to want to exact some sort of retribution for his daughter. But given the gravity of the situation and the air-clearing that everything had been amounting to this very moment and _needed_ to happen before any other plans were made, the hunter eventually acquiesced. But not without great reluctance and not without a silent promise in his intentionally hard gaze that there was be hell to pay if anything happened to Sam when he wasn’t there to police the situation. No one was taking a pound of flesh off his brother for a tragedy that wasn’t even his fault that he was suffering enough for already. 

Not knowing where else to go after leaving the room to give the men privacy, Dean headed towards the cafeteria, figuring more coffee would be a good place to start. It wasn’t until he was studying prices on the board that he was startled when a voice from beside the hunter addressed him by name. 

‘Your brother shouldn’t blame himself, Dean.’ 

It took a second to realize that the person talking to him was Jess’ mother. He couldn’t remember what her name being too deep into his triggered feelings at the time they had been introduced. Obviously she had followed him wanting to talk. Dean quickly recovered his composure and hastily ordered two long blacks as the staff eyed him impatiently for holding up the line. 

‘He’s a good kid, a good man.’ He replied solemnly as he met her bloodshot eyes. ‘He always was. He would have done everything he could have to save her.’ 

‘Oh, I don’t doubt that.’ She smiled sadly as she absently watched the barista work. The pungent scent of the beans and brewing coffee briefly overpowering the chemical tang of hospitals that always seemed to cling to the back of your throat. ‘It could tell from the first time Jess brought him home that he was a good man. The type that would keep her safe and treat her right.’ She refocused her attention back to Dean, not knowing just how right she was. ‘He never talked much about his family though. I knew he had a brother but he never really gave details about you.’ 

‘Yeah, we kinda had a falling out a few year’s ago and didn’t really talk much until the day before when he called to ask me to call to California.’ He shuffled uncomfortably, fingering the stitching of a seam in his leather jacket, as the topic of conversation had shifted to more treacherous waters. ‘And Sam and our dad were always butting heads for years before that.’ 

‘The classic “Too many alpha males under one roof”?’ 

‘You could say that.’ Dean smirked bitterly before sobering. ‘But you could see it coming for ages that Sam was going to leave for college, go his own way, even though we just didn’t want to see it.’ 

Once they’d picked up their coffees, they started back to the ICU unit. Sam had composed himself in their absence and him and Jess’ father seemed amicable enough as far as Dean could tell when he quickly scanned the two men to get a read on their interactions. It appeared that his brother’s remorse and the father’s common sense had found enough common ground to have a civilized discussion without it descending into a grief-filled domestic. He didn’t miss the fact that her father also had matching red eyes from crying that hadn’t been there when he left but that was to be expected when losing a child was the most devastating thing that could happen to a parent. In that respect, Dean was grateful that the Moore’s didn’t know about the baby and the transfer spell as the idea of suffering the loss of a grandchild at the same time probably would have been more than they could bare. Even in their grief and desperation, he didn’t know if they would have been people who would have been open minded enough to believe in the supernatural world that he and Sam had grown up in and would never have risked the spell like they did if they’d realized it was even a possible option. The fact that Sam had immediately elected to keep it and the baby itself on the sly – at least for now anyway – was telling enough when his brother was normally the moral compass of the brothers with his true North being to give the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. 

‘Ellen,’ The father said heavily, when he saw his wife and Dean in the doorway, ‘what are we gonna do? We got to make a decision.’ 

The brothers excused themselves to let the parents discuss the matter when in reality everyone unspokenly knew it was more about whether they were ready to let go and say goodbye yet. 

‘How you feeling?’ Dean checked in with Sam as they ducked into the closet rest room. 

‘About as good as you can expect,’ Sam wearily answered after splashing cold water on his face, making a point of holding it against puffy eyes bruised in his face between the equally competing flushed and paleness mottling his complexion. But knowing that wasn’t really what Dean was asking, he added, ‘I’m fine with the spell stuff – not feeling sick again or anything after it passed this morning.’ 

‘I’m sorry, Sammy,’ Dean meeting the other man’s eyes in the mirror. All the emotional rawness of the occasion and in his brother compelling him to speak. Needing to atone for his own contribution to their estrangement. ‘Really, I am. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to know her when she meant a lot to you.’ 

‘It’s not just that, Dean,’ Sam declared after letting out a hitching breath. ‘I was gonna ask her to marry me, before I even knew about the baby. I’d been looking at rings and everything.’ 

Dean’s throat tightened painfully as he watched the younger Winchester lean over the sink, trying not to break down again at sharing this latest revelation. Because _this_ – this changed _everything_. He’d pretty quickly gathered that Sam had been serious about Jessica but he hadn’t realized it was this serious. That Sam had genuinely thought she was the One. This was the person he’d wanted to spend his life with. The fact that a single accident had ruined all these lives, ruined the foundations of this normal life that his brother had so desperately wanted, was devastating on the highest level. Literally in the space of a night, the whole bottom had fallen out of Sam’s life and there was nothing Dean could do other than help pick up the pieces and save what could still be saved. 

‘I’m sorry,’ He repeated, meaning it all the more with this new piece of information as he stepped forward to gather Sam into a hug. ‘We did what we could.’ He tightened his hold when he felt the tremors running the other hunter. The sheer amount of energy and raw willpower of trying to keep it together in this shitstorm he’d been thrown into. ‘At least a little piece of her can still be around.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Sam agreed with a tearful scoff, voice muffled from his face being buried into Dean’s shoulder just like when they were kids. ‘And you know what the irony is?’ He continued after a moment as he pulled away and they separated. ‘Jess was studying Obstetrics at Stanford. She could have been fucking _perfect_ to help us with this.’

‘Yeah, she would have.’ Dean’s eyes fell shut momentarily as he nodded sadly. ‘We’re just gonna have to muddle through and do the best we can like we always do. We should get back and see if they’ve made a decision yet.’

The inevitable decision to take Jessica off life support was made shortly after the Winchesters arrived back to the room. The Moore’s asked Sam his opinion on the matter even though everyone knew it was more of a gesture of courtesy than anything especially when they weren’t privy to all the details that Sam had shared with Dean. Although, Sam did state on the walk back to the room he had told her father about his intention to have proposed to his daughter while Dean and Erin had been gone earlier. He didn’t share what her father’s response was but Dean was pretty certain that it would have been more positive and supportive than it would have been had they had been dealing with John Winchester instead. 

All that was left now was for everyone to say goodbye before the doctors let her go. The parents naturally spent the longest with her and would be there after the brothers had left but they told Sam to take as long as he needed to say goodbye. Dean patiently waited in the hallway, not too close to crowd or interfere but close enough to be supportive and ready to catch Sam when the emotional and physical crash would eventually happen. What he didn’t expect though was for Jessica’s mother to approach him tentatively some time later and ask him if he wanted to say anything. It took a moment of awkward fumbling after being caught off guard by the question and some gentle encouraging from the matriarch before Dean agreed, if only out of respect and to be there Sam who was still in the room. 

It was with trepidation, completely out of his comfort zone as a hunter, that Dean re-entered the room. He was used to death and blood and gore but more so _after_ the fact, dealing with the aftereffects of a monster claiming a victim, rather than death before it had actually happened. Where the decision was made to consciously let go. This was infinity worse, he decided. The stench and suffocating weight of grief was heavier than it had ever been at a crime scene interviewing a witness or a loved one for any of the jobs that he’d worked thus far. He didn’t even begin to know what to say when he came to a stop beside the bed. For all the death he’d encountered, all the training their father had put them through, he had never been taught how to grieve. It was a long moment Dean just stood there silently, studying the woman who would have been his sister-in-law and the mother of his niece or nephew had the circumstances and the world been a kinder place. 

‘I’m sorry,’ He eventually mustered, quietly. His voice came out sounding more jagged then even he expected. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to know you like Sammy did. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see how happy you made my little brother. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see how great of a mother you would have been. I’m sorry for all of it.’ He knew Sam was listening, roused from his miserable silence, when he shifted in his chair. In a gesture of solidarity and of promise, Dean rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder gently. ‘But I swear, I’ll look after both of them. I’m here now and I’ll keep ‘em safe for you.’ 

It was a few more minuets of silence, absorbing and processing the weight of Dean’s words, before Sam finally got to his feet to tell the Moore’s and the doctors they could do it now. First the staff re-entered, then the parents. It was than that the ventilators and the other various machines were switched off one by one without prompt or ceremony. As the heart monitor faltered momentarily before flatlining, Dean threw his own mantra of _‘no chick flick moments’_ away to curl an arm around Sam. Instead of resisting the physical contact, the younger Winchester leaned into it while the irrefutable truth that Jessica – _his_ Jess – the love of his life, was gone rang out before too being silenced as the final machine was switched off. 

_Goodbye Jess_, Dean thought silently as the doctor announced time of death to be recorded. _You keep an eye out for my little brother and your baby too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I missed any typos I apologize and I will be re-reading back over this to do further edits.


End file.
